Intellectually, I was pretty sure no one would fail--PSIA/AASI try pretty hard to pass people on level-one certifications, so that newer instructors buy in to the organization (and also pay yearly dues and sign up for further certifications/Continuing Education hours, which is how the organization makes money). But I don't think any of the nine of us taking the certification test was truly confident we'd passed all the riding tasks. (Me? My flatspins were ragged, and I can barely nose press at all.) You get no positive feedback at all during the exam. Nine out of nine people felt demoralized by the end of the three days.
Is it foolish to expect otherwise? After all, no one leaves the bar exam feeling high on life. None of the medical professionals I know described their board exams as joyful experiences. Maybe ending up feeling deeply beat up is just part and parcel of the exam process.
But we're talking about snowboarding here. We participate in the sport because it brings us joy, and it's no exaggeration to say that people choose to become instructors in substantial part in order to share that joy. I don't think I object to the idea that instructors should perform to certain standards, but I question whether this is the way to attain those standards.
It only gets worse as you try to progress. While pass rates for the level one are in the nineties, pass rates for level two hover around thirty-to-thirty-five percent, and the level three ("Full Cert") falls all the way to ten percent.
(The pass rates are remarkably consistent year to year, by the way, which suggests--despite strong denial by PSIA/AASI to the contrary--that there is something of a quota. But consider: if it were otherwise, wouldn't people go back to the training departments at their home resorts and debrief on why they failed, allowing training to improve for the next group?)
We would never take our students into terrain that only a third of them could handle. We'd rightly decry that as setting them up to fail. So it strikes me as deeply misguided to do it to instructors.
Here's why this all matters: in our culture, we already attach struggle to so much of what we do. We expect things to be hard, and they end up being hard. But to cultivate a culture of struggle and hardship within an activity meant to be joyful should alarm us. I've now devoted my life to exploring and teaching a process that promises that life doesn't need to be a struggle. I'm not saying that it isn't challenging to change our old habits, but we truly can learn to live within a state of ease. To then participate in a process that brings struggle to one of the parts of life where struggle should least be present raises my hackles.
PSIA/AASI has no incentive to change--people keep signing up for the exams, so the money keeps flowing in. But I know we can do better. For me, the question becomes, How much energy do I want to put in in order to bring about that change?
(Demoralized or no, there was something of a happy ending: all nine of us passed. Congrats to Eddie, Jade, J., Rachel, Ryan, Sara, Savannah and Sofia.)